


Maybe Now I'm Not Alone

by beacandy



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Met As Kids, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beacandy/pseuds/beacandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This little platypus was an unusual creature. Even excluding the intrinsic weirdness of platypuses. Even excluding his unusually bright teal color in an otherwise dimly-colored-to-sepia-world. Even excluding the fact that he lived in the small town of Gimmelshtump, far from his natural habitat. No, those traits were all explainable or excusable in some way. His primarily unusual trait had to be the one that was easy to overlook, but once noticed, impossible to explain.</p><p>That was, of course, his abnormally high level of intelligence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ham Sandwich

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! To commemorate the ending of Phineas and Ferb, I'm reposting all of my PnF fanfiction to AO3. Please enjoy!
> 
> I'm also planning to finish all of my incomplete fics before the finale. No promises, but I do intend to write something for this fic.

The little platypus walked around with little aim, his webbed rear feet and fur-covered front feet pitter-pattering against a half-heartedly constructed cobble road as he searched for a human house that he could get some food from. He wasn’t starving, since he’d managed to snag some scraps from a slightly larger house earlier that day, but he knew that the winter was coming, and since this place was far from wealthy, they’d soon have a shortage of food and he needed to store up whatever body fat he could find. He was one of the most healthy platypuses he knew, though he seldom saw any others. Platypuses were extremely territorial, after all, and he wasn’t looking for a fight, which was a bit unusual.

This little platypus was an unusual creature. Even excluding the intrinsic weirdness of platypuses. Even excluding his unusually bright teal color in an otherwise dimly-colored-to-sepia-world. Even excluding the fact that he lived in the small town of Gimmelshtump, far from his natural habitat. No, those traits were all explainable or excusable in some way. His primarily unusual trait had to be the one that was easy to overlook, but once noticed, impossible to explain.

That was, of course, his abnormally high level of intelligence. He had realized it when he recognized a series of symbols on multiple human-places. He tried to ask his mother what they meant, but she stared at him blankly, unable to understand what he was referring to.

He had long since learned the symbols and their meanings. He also knew that they corresponded to specific phonetic sounds, and over time of looking through windows into classrooms and eavesdropping from around corners, he had gained a basic understanding of both the written and the spoken language. This gave him a distinct advantage over any other platypuses, since he could recognize words like “restaurant” or hear conversations about “feasts.”

While walking slowly, the platypus heard a loud “Do not move!” He looked in the direction that it had come from only to see a normal house with a normal lawn gnome in front. He stared for a moment, though, wondering who had said that, and he could have sworn that the gnome had blinked in its glassy forward stare. Surprised, he let out a nervous chirr, and the gnome turned automatically toward him.

“Do not move!” When the voice came again from inside the house, the gnome – or rather the boy – turned forward again. The platypus walked to him quickly and the boy, without turning his head, followed him with his eyes. A panicked look on his face, the boy hissed, “Dumb thing, get out of here! Father will kill you if he sees you!” He stood next to the boy, ignoring him. After all, as far as the boy knew, he was just a platypus. They don’t do much, and they certainly don’t understand German. He grinned, his face outside of the boy’s field of vision, as the boy sputtered and protested, infuriated.

They stood together like that, and fortunately it was only another fifteen minutes before the man inside of the house – the boy’s father? – fell asleep. The boy looked inside of the house carefully before turning to the platypus. “Just look at you,” he said with a high-pitched voice, glaring accusatorially, “you almost got me in trouble!” The platypus turned to walk away before he heard, “Wait!”

The platypus knew that staying could give his intelligence away, and that he had no reason to trust that the boy wouldn’t freak out and call him a demon and send the village after him like that time before and yet…

And yet he had no chance to choose to stay or go because the boy picked him up in his tiny little arms and turned him so that they were facing each other. “You may be a troublemaker, but you’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?”

The platypus tried to avoid accidentally letting his confusion seep into his expression, but fortunately the absentminded boy was too busy rubbing him to notice.

“I know, I know, you’re ready to get back home with your mom and dad, right?” the platypus, glad that the boy was too distracted to notice, stifled a giggle at his naïveté. A platypus lives with its mother for about four to five months before she leaves it and the father is not even a part of it, not that the boy could be expected to know something like that.

“Look, though, you’re thinner than a goozim-poking-stick!” the boy said, poking the platypus in the belly to illustrate his point. “So your family must not know how to feed you right.” The boy turned around and walked into his house, still holding the platypus in his arms.

“Father goes out like a light, so we should be safe,” the boy whispered as he walked into the kitchen, “but don’t make any noise, okay?” He put the animal down on a wooden table and started to rummage through the cupboards. The platypus shifted his eyes toward the boy’s sleeping father and wondered if it was worth the risk for him to stay.

“I’ll tell you a secret. My parents aren’t very good at feeding me right, either. So we’ll be having our supper together! I hope you like ham sandwiches.”

Well, food is food. And the boy seemed to be too young to be tricking him. It couldn’t do any harm to stay long enough to get some ‘ham sandwiches,’ whatever those were. He stood on the table patiently as the boy sliced some bread and got out a small piece of ham that he sliced into two pieces.

Unfortunately, the knife slipped from his hand and made a loud noise against the floor. The platypus and the boy could hear a noise from the other room. The boy froze.

The two stood absolutely still for a few moments as they waited. When there was no follow-up sound from the room, the boy slowly constructed the two sandwiches, careful not to make a single noise, and turned back to place the sandwiches onto the table. Of course, he was focusing too much of his effort into being silent for him to even think about the knife he had dropped on the floor or to realize that he was going to trip on it.

The sickening crash made the platypus wince and look over the table. He sighed in relief when he saw that the boy seemed uninjured, only for any of his relief to drain when he heard a loud footstep from the other room, followed by another. The boy shot up from on the floor and started to run outside, only to look back toward the platypus, who, after a moment of panic, shot into a cupboard and pulled it as closed as he could with his bill.

“You dumb little thing,” the boy muttered almost inaudibly, his expression betraying his horror. “Father will look in there and…” The boy glanced toward the other room and his place in the yard before sighing as if in acceptance of his fate and quickly moving to stand in front of the cupboard.

The platypus tried to open the cupboard door slightly to see through it, only for the boy to hold it shut with the back of his foot, saying in a hushed panic, “Stay, you dummy.”

Fortunately (or unfortunately, perhaps, since it made his heart threaten to leap out of his chest) the platypus could still hear the thunderous footsteps approaching. Eventually they stopped and there was a sickening silence. “Boy.” The word was slowly uttered like an obscenity by the voice that had said, ‘Do not move!’ before. And yet now the voice sounded even more loud and cruel.

“Why. Are. You. Inside?” Each word was an individual poison and he could feel the foot trembling against the door.

The boy’s small voice was a welcome break from the nerve-wracking loudness. “I-I was hungry, I d-d-didn’t see any w-w-witches or woodtrolls, so I th-thought-”

“-You have a job to  _protect_  us!” the voice interrupted furiously. “I should have known you were too stupid for that!” The words felt painful to the platypus, especially since the boy seemed not to wince from them. He was used to it. That was not what human parents were supposed to say, was it?

“What’s in the drawer behind you?”

This, on the other hand, did shake the little boy. “N-nothing!” he insisted unconvincingly.

“Do not lie to me, boy,” the voice said, rising in volume.

“I-I’m not! Please! Th-there’s nothing in there!”

 _“Boy!”_  the man yelled at the top of his lungs, and yet the foot blocking the cupboard stayed in place, even if it did shake like it was made of jelly. Despite admiring his resilience, though, the platypus knew that there was no way that the boy could stop the man from getting through. He braced himself for the inevitable death.

But the confrontation was interrupted by an infant’s cry in the other room. The man said in an unexpectedly quiet, even gentle, voice, “My son.” There was no movement for a moment until he said in a voice quaking with anger, “Do. Not. Move.” The footsteps began again, heading away from the room.

The boy sighed in relief, quickly opening the cupboard and pulling the platypus out. “Now get out! Through the window, you little troublemaker!” The boy picked up one of the sandwiches and put it in the platypus’s bill. The platypus looked at the boy for a moment.

“I mean it, go on, shoo! Your mom and dad are waiting for you!” The platypus winced at the boy making the same assumption before obeying and leaving.

But even if he shot out of the window, the platypus wasn’t about to really leave. Because that’s when the little platypus realized that he wasn’t just staying at the boy’s house for supper. He was staying for a bit longer than that.


	2. Wild

“Grgrgrgrgr.”

“Go away.”

“Grgrgrgrgr.”

“Go away!”

“Grgrgrgrgr.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?! Look, I gave you food one time, and Father almost killed me for it! I’m not giving you any more.”

The platypus had not given up on his decision to stay with the boy, though he did feel tempted to whenever the boy yelled at him to go away. He had to admit that he was beginning to see a less appealing side of the boy than the one that had saved him last night, and that the high-pitched voice that seemed so cute to him before was beginning to feel grating.

But these were just mild annoyances, and besides, he had a feeling that it would all get better when they got to the school, since the boy seemed smart and at school that was what was important. And it was refreshing to see him without a false beard or gnome cap on, even if his clothing was still unusual.

It was very nice and colorful, especially considering his father and his apparent contempt for him. Perhaps his mother was more agreeable? This thought took a bit of the platypus’s discomfort off of his shoulders, though it was counteracted when the boy stopped walking, turned to the platypus, and said, his bored irritation finally falling and revealing a hint of concern, “I’m almost at the school, and I doubt you’re gonna be as lucky as last time.”

The platypus cringed and turned as if he intended to leave, resolving to only watch from afar but nonetheless anticipating seeing the boy in class. Satisfied, the boy turned back around and continued to the school as the platypus walked only close enough to see him. Soon enough, the boy was surrounded by other children.

“Nice outfit, Heinrike!” a boy yelled sarcastically, and the platypus quickly looked to him and saw that he was looking at his boy. He glared, knowing that he wouldn’t be seen and wondering what the insult even meant.

“Oh yeah, never heard that one before, very clever,” his boy said, seemingly unfazed and surprising the platypus with an odd maturity.  
The boy looked at him in confusion and elbowed one of the boys next to him, some lackey, presumably, who teased, “Where are you going, off to a slumber party?”

“Yes, a slumber party in the middle of the day at the school building. How did you guess?” Now both of the boys looked confused and slightly irritated as a Perry sighed in relaxation. Apparently without his father’s shadow leering over him, the boy could fend for himself.

“That’s a dress! You’re a girl!”

Everyone began laughing when the boy was unable to come up with a comeback to such a direct statement. The platypus steamed as he came to the resolution that the boy’s mother was just as unlikable as his father and that he couldn’t wait to at least see the boy in class rattling off smart answers like he knew he would.

The bell rung and everyone shuffled through the door into the classroom. The platypus dove to a few windows until he found the one with the boy’s class. Thankfully, the building was only one story high.

When he reached the right classroom, the children, including the boy, were already sitting at their desks. The teacher looked at a sheet and read off of it, squinting unsurely, “Heinz Diff…Duff…Doff…”

The boy rolled his eyes and corrected him, saying, “Heinz Doofenshmirtz.” The platypus perked up at finally having a name to attach to the boy and stored it in his memory.

“Do you have the homework?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sounding almost disappointed, the teacher accusatorially asked, “What was the answer to number four?”

“Uh…” he looked at his sheet before brightening and confidently answering, “One solution to the shaft-turning debate we are in could be for us to find an alternative and more sustainable energy source instead of goat power, like solar or hydroelectric generators. Or, I dunno, oil or something if that’s too hard to get.”

The class stared at him for a moment before beginning to laugh. The platypus skeptically raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a smart answer, especially considering that he was just a young child. He looked at the teacher, waiting for him to reprimand the students, only to see him laughing as well.

Slowly, the class quieted down and the teacher became calmer, wiping a tear from laughter from his eye. “I can guess you did not do the reading, Doffleshirtz.”

“Y-yes I did!”

“If you did, you would have seen the sentence at the end of section three. ‘There is no way to end the shaft-turning debate other than by the left side caving to our superior right side’s method.’”

“Well, yeah, but I just-”

“You aren’t saying our books are wrong, are you? That you know better than the writers who did years of research?”

“N-no, sir.” The platypus continued to look, feeling sick and knowing that without the boy’s permission, he could do nothing but watch. Feeling a bit guilty, he decided that it would be okay for him to leave for a while. The boy had said he wouldn’t feed him, after all, and he was starting to get hungry.

As he’d expected, winter’s beginnings had made food scarce, and so he was hard pressed to find anything, especially when his mind was preoccupied by the boy and wondering if he was alright. Humans, he had noticed from observation, tended to be fragile, and in the short time that he had watched the boy he seemed to be at what most of them would consider their limit.

These thoughts were not well suited to staying focused, of course, which meant that his typical meal of leftover human food was not an option. He found himself moving too slowly to sneak through open doors and even came close to being seen. Growing more hungry as well as impatient, he eventually gave up on his typical food source and stepped away from the houses to the wilderness-filled dirt road where he would find another option, however much he disliked the prospect of turning to it.

Bugs.

It was considerably easier to find grubs than any better food, especially since the village was not well known for its upkeep. He ate one and resisted the urge to gag at the relatively unfamiliar source of nutrition before his hunger overwhelmed his civilized manner and he kept searching for more.

—

After a few more disappointing hours, the platypus traced his way back to the school in time to see children shuffling out. Among them, he saw a drained Heinz looking around before breathing a sigh of relief. “Looks like he came to his senses and went back to his home.”

Before the platypus could indignantly show himself, he heard a voice that was still ringing in his ear from earlier in the day, mocking in that same infuriating way, “Look at this dummy! He got the homework wrong, and now he’s talking to himself!”

The platypus involuntarily snarled, surprising even himself with his anger, but somehow resisted the urge to interfere.

“Leave me alone,” Heinz said with a quiet grumble, trying to walk away only to have his way blocked. He gave a quiet gasp as one of the boys pushed him and began to laugh.

With the gasp, the boys only laughed harder and pushed him again. The platypus flinched before growling threateningly, causing the bullies to glance away from the boy in confusion.

He jumped out in front of the boy, much to the surprise of the bullies. He looked back to grin at Heinz, who just stared with his mouth open, before turning back to the bullies and snarling.

“Wh-wh-what is that thing?” the voice said, suddenly so meek and pathetic that the platypus almost laughed.

“It must be some sort of demon!” one of his minions added with a shaking voice.

“Quick, run before it bites us!”

The bullies quickly ran away, all yelling in terror as Heinz just looked at him.

They stared at each other for a while before Heinz gave a tiny smile and gestured for the platypus to come closer. The platypus gratefully came up to him and felt himself being lifted up and carried in the boy’s small arms until they reached the boy’s house. “Stay here until night,” the boy whispered as he left the platypus on the doorstep.

The platypus rushed to the window to see the boy sit down at the kitchen table and open his books, starting on his homework, and the platypus swelled with something that could be considered a mix of pride and pain that he was still trying after the disaster that was class.

Apparently he wasn’t as fragile as the platypus had figured.

While he worked, a woman who could be assumed to be his mother stirred a pot that smelled absolutely marvelous. “I’m making your brother’s dinner,” she said sternly, “be sure to stay out of the way.” The boy nodded noncommittally and the platypus narrowed her eyes at her, his suspicions that she was as unlikable as her husband confirmed.

“Mother,” the boy said in a tiny voice, breaking the silence and causing his mother to glance toward him absentmindedly, “I was wondering if I could have a pet.”

She regarded the question for a while until turning back to the meal and stirring it, asking tiredly, “What sort of pet?”

Childishly enthusiastic, he said in a voice attempting to sound yielding, “Well…maybe a duck. Or a beaver. Or something like that.”

“Those are wild animals,” she instantly replied, this time not looking up. “They don’t make good pets.”

Apparently confused by the statement, he shook his head and, as if clarifying an unsure point, he asked, “What about a really smart one?”

“Stop asking such stupid questions. You can’t domesticate a beaver or a duck.”

Heinz’s hopeful face turned complacent as he nodded disappointedly, looking back to his homework before glancing out of the window.

The platypus grinned at him from out of the window and the small smile spread on Heinz’s small face again.


End file.
